glosa....'The Beggar and the Woman"
from 'Bird on The Wire' by Leonard Cohen
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
He said to me, "you must not ask for so much."
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
She cried to me, "Hey, why not ask for more?"
Neon lights buzzed in staccato outside the motel window.
Sleep seemed something I dare not dream of.
I took myself looking to ease my aching need,
keeping to steamy side-streets and deserted alleys,
heading for the part of town beyond the tracks.
I carried enough for what I sought, but not too much.
There were folks I owed, I didn’t wish to meet.
I wandered for some time into unknown territory,
stopped to reconnoiter, then felt somebody’s touch.
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch.
He wore a jagged grin, a voice like shattered glass,
I didn’t need to speak, he could read it in my eyes.
“Ol’ Dutch, he’ll fix ya up; Toonie fer meself ?”
One gnarly finger pointed toward an iron gate.
The gate swung shut behind me with a screech.
I asked of someone; “I’m looking for Ol’ Dutch.”
“Along that way, down the steps, behind the bar.”
“I seek a special deal, seems you’re the man to see.”
Grabbing my scruff with a swift steely clutch,
he said to me, “You must not ask for so much.”
“You’re a stranger here, the rules of play are mine,
I’ll give you what you crave, but I decide how much.”
I withdrew to the path, the beggar motioned me along.
Then a brilliant white implosion, fading into black.
Awakened by a seagull’s shriek, I tasted blood and sand.
A merciless sun glared down upon this unfamiliar shore.
All I had possessed was gone, I was otherwise intact.
Grateful for this fact, I set to find my way back home.
Before long I saw the beggar, not hobbling like before,
and a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door.
She moved aside, they entered, inviting me to follow.
Though wary, I felt a welcome sense of peace and solace.
The air was rich with spicy scent like a Byzantine bazaar.
They now stood before an ornate oriental altar.
The beggar spoke, voice smooth as burnished leather;
“I’m only ever what you imagine, neither less nor more.”
The woman sat me by a fire, and fed me tea and oranges.
I was overwhelmed with a desire to stay forever.
Instead, I roused myself and retreated through the door.
She cried to me, “Hey, why not ask for more ?”
